Four SCRAPPED
by TheGuyWithANinjaPsyche
Summary: Human AU. Four young men shall band together despite their stark differences, and become brothers. This is my own take on the story of TMNT. This is my first turtles fic, so please leave constructive criticism! Read and Review! This story has been scrapped. I shall be rewriting a new version titled Brotherhood.
1. Chapter 1

Four

Seeing Red I

 _The streets of Chicago were a very scary place, a very scary place indeed._

" _Put your hands in the air!" The officer shouted_

" _Look, I ain't done anything wrong!" Blood covered his fists as he held the unconscious fellow gang member by his collar. A purple dragon tattoo covered the assailant's right arm._

" _I said put your hands in the air!"_

 _He dropped the man as he walked with his hands up._

" _Stop right there!"_

" _Look I—"_

 _The officer shot him with his taser gun, dropping the man. The officer handcuffed him and put him the cop car._

* * *

A young African American male with tied back dreadlocks of a crimson color, sat on the floor in a jail cell. His caramel skin was riddled with dried sweat and blood. His acid green eyes shifted back in forth from the floor and wall. His lips were in a tight line as his black lip piercing was adorned on the side of them.

"This has been the 7th time. When you gonna stop these childish tantrums, Raphael?" A voice said. His ears perked up, as he knew that voice. A man was standing there behind the bars in a dark blue suit and tie. He was a famous hockey player. He watched over Raphael like he was his own brother.

"Casey, look the dude was talkin' shit about Angel. I watch over that girl like a little sister, man. I beat his ass for it, plain and simple bruh." He stood up and shrugged nonchalantly.

"You beat em' nearly to death. He's barely eating through a straw. God damn it, man!"

"That's what he gets for talkin' shit. I told his ass I was havin' a bad day!" He turned around and faced his friend.

"You can't keep doin' this! I can only bail you out so many times before you're stuck in prison; if we're being honest, I don't think you wanna swing that way. You're only nineteen; this ain't any way to live. You need to control your anger before it gets you killed. Think about Angel, man." Casey ran a hand through his long hair.

"I know you ain't talkin bout anger b. You know how many psychotic episodes you told me about, where you beat a fool with a hockey stick whenever you got a foul for something you didn't do?!" Raphael walked over to him as his green eyes flared.

"Look, this ain't about me pal. This is all about you. Besides why do you think I take meds now?" Casey grabbed one of the bars of the cell tightly.

Casey had a look of sympathy in his blue eyes. Raphael sighed and grabbed his head. He ran his hand through his dreads and breathed heavily as his voice began to choke.

"What's the point if I'm gonna keep doin' the same thing over and over? I'm a lost cause man. I always caused my parents trouble. I'm no good. I was a part of the Purple Dragons, I did bad shit. There ain't any hope for me." The self-acclaimed tough guy bowed his head in shame and tried his hardest not to cry.

"Look at me man. LOOK AT ME RAPHAEL!"

"Just leave me here. I deserve to be here. I'm a bad person. Look at all of the shit I've done! I've stole shit, hurt people, and committed crimes…all for my own selfish gain!"

"How dare say you that shit? I promised your parents I would look after you. Raph, I don't ever wanna hear you ever talkin' down about yourself. You're not a bad guy, you're just misguided. You're gonna control your wrath, and I'm gonna help you."

Casey ordered an officer to release Raphael, which he did, albeit reluctantly. As Casey gave the somber teen a tissue, he hugged him tightly.

Raph heard the officer mumble something along the lines of 'man, what a failure'.

Raphael wrenched himself from Casey's grip, turned sharply, and slung his fist at the cop's face. The only thing that stopped it from connecting was Casey's hand.

The crimson haired young man lowered his hand and looked at the cop.

"Listen here, you fat fuck of a pig. You don't know shit bout me fam. You don't know what I had to do to stay alive, so miss me with that bullshit." The angry young man growled through his unusually sharp canines.

Casey pulled him away from the cop hastily.

"Raph, chill out; it ain't worth going right back in there for assaulting some judgmental ass."

Raph looked at him dead in his eyes and looked back at the cop.

"You lucky he here, or else I woulda beat your ass to a bloody pulp."

The two walked over to the cop and got Raph's stuff. All the cops gave him this knowing smirk, as if they had a good feeling that he'd back here soon.

"How, tell me how you gonna help a 'failure' like me, bruh?" They walked out the station and got in Casey's truck.

"You'll find out tomorrow." Casey simply smiled.

* * *

On the ride home, Raph kept his emerald eyes glued to the window, he watched the cars pass by. His thoughts were consumed of his past mistakes, failures, and near death experiences.

 _I'm not mad at you son, just disappointed. We're both very disappointed in you, son._

They pulled up the driveway of Casey's lavish but somehow modest three-story home. It was mainly colored back with hints of white.

"This real nice Casey, you never told me you had a big house bruh." Raph walked in with his bag.

"I brought you here after you got into a real bad bar fight, you was just too wasted to remember."

"Oh word?" Raph set his bag down and sat on the plush couch.

"Yeah man. So what about you and this Purple Dragon shit? Are you done with them, Raphael?" Casey turned and locked the door.

"Greetings Master Raphael, you should eat something." A voice surprised the young man.

"Jesus! Who the hell is this dude and why is he in yo house fam?" Raph looked at the strange man in a suit. He almost looked like that butler whose master dresses up as a nocturnal mammal or something.

"That's Sebastian, Raphie boy. He's my butler. You know, the guy who helped me drag you into the house after your bar fight?"

The memory came back to him after a little thinking.

"Oh, my bad, I forgot who you were. Bastian, what's poppin' my dude?"

"That would be the popcorn, Master Raphael." Sebastian handed him a glass of water.

"Funny, I like this dude." Raphael spoke with a chuckle.

"So, you got any babes you can introduce me to?" Casey sat on the couch and nudged his best friend.

"You mean like a girlfriend or something? Nah, you know me man, can't be held down by nobody…not even a female."

"What about Mona Lisa?" Casey chuckled.

Raph spit out the water he was drinking and coughed a few times.

"What are you talkin' bout b?" Raph tried to play it off, and failed. The slight movement of his eyebrows told Casey everything.

"You can't tell me you don't remember Mona? You know, your best friend, the chick you would argue with over anything?"

"Oh her, we…uh, been keepin' in touch." Raphael beat against his chest softly.

"By 'keeping in touch', do you mean…what is that you young people call it these days, 'friends with benefits'?"

The crimson haired young man paled in shock. His fingers twirled around nervously as he looked elsewhere.

"So what's been going on with you and hockey lately, Jones?" He tried to change the subject very quickly.

"Well, I and the rest of the Chicago Psychos had a celebration party after our well-deserved victory a couple weeks back. I see you tryin' to change the subject. But I'll guess I let ya off the hook for now."

Raphael walked upstairs to a guest room to get his things situated.

"Master Jones, I do have a question to ask you about Master Raphael."

"What's up, Sebastian?"

"Does he have any living relatives?"

"Yeah, but they don't want nothin' to do with him. They left me to take care of em' because they 'can't love a gang member of a son'. Buncha cowards if yah ask me."

"Thank you sir, that's all I needed to know."

Casey said goodbye to his good friend as he walked upstairs to his bedroom on the third floor. The hockey player looked up at his nightstand and noticed that his meds were empty.

He knew exactly what this meant.

It meant something very, very bad.

* * *

The next day, Raphael woke up to see breakfast on his nightstand with a note.

' _Enjoy, Master Raphael- Sebastian'_

After he finished his breakfast, he walked out of his room to go thank Sebastian. He stopped when he heard a loud noise come from Casey's room.

"Are you good, Casey?" He said as he knocked on the door.

He didn't hear a response so he opened the door.

"Who the fuck is you?! Where is Casey at?!" Raphael was yelling at a man dressed in a hockey mask, leather hoodie, football and soccer pads, with sports weapons on his back. He and his hockey stick were covered in blood, bits of bone, and brain matter. Raphael was ready to whoop his ass.

The masked assailant was ready to attack when he stopped, realizing who it was.

"Raph, what in the fuck are you doing here?!"

"How do—wait, Casey?!" Raph was taken aback at the thought of this lunatic being his best friend.

"Look, pal. I—" He began as he removed his mask.

"Don't you 'pal' me, Arnold! Why in the hell are you covered in blood and pieces of bone?!" Raph shut the door and locked it.

"You ain't goin' nowhere until you explain what the fuck is goin' on with you fam."

Casey saw the fear in his friend's eyes and couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Casey dropped his bag and hockey stick and sat on the bed.

"Where do I even begin?"

* * *

"So you mean to tell me, that when you're off your meds, you become mad violent and yo mental issues come to the surface? And in order to keep from hurtin' the people you care about, you out here takin' criminals' lives like some kinda street reaper?" Raph tried to comprehend what Casey was saying to him. He walked around the master bedroom with a sort of confusion.

"That's basically the gist of it. Look, I'm sorry you had to see me like this. It ain't somethin' I'm particularly proud of. I feel some kinda hockey freak, too angry to control his wrath so he beats down other people. I feel like a hypocrite." Casey looked at his blood and dirt covered mask, the self-loathing in his voice was very apparent.

"No, you ain't a hypocrite. You can't control your anger, so it ain't your fault. I can, so I'm in the wrong for that. Like you told me, I don't ever wanna hear you talkin' down about yourself. Its OK, nobody else gotta know. It's gonna take a bit getttin' used to but, I'll deal. Maybe we can make a crime fightin' duo one day." The red haired young man put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I appreciate it Raphie boy. I'll get cleaned up and changed, and we'll go get some lunch."

"Is we seriously bout to get lunch at ten in the morning?" Raph opened up the door.

"Brunch it is then."


	2. Chapter 2

Four

Seeing Red II

 **Guest: Thank you for reading it! When the other turtles meet, it shall be nothing short of epic!**

 **Kittyfan12: I have some interesting stuff planned for Raph and the other turtles. Being African American myself, i thought that since Raph is from the streets, i tried to make him as 'street' as possible without going overboard. Thanks for reading friend!**

 **Lunexa: Thank you so much for the constructive criticism!**

* * *

Raphael and Casey ate brunch with Sebastian, while they watched the news. A girl in a black vest and yellow hoodie spoke about the attacks of the Purple Dragons.

"This is April O' Neil with Channel 6 news. The streets of Chicago are getting more and more dangerous; the Purple Dragons exercise their reign of terror through West Division Street and beyond. Will no one stand up to these miscreants and give us justice? In other news, the organization known as Saki Corps, has just donated a charity for the elementary and high schools."

Casey's eyes were glued to the TV. Raph looked at Casey for a split second and immediately burst out laughing.

Casey's thoughts were thrown off by Raphael's laughter.

"What? What's so funny?"

"You, you is what's funny my dude! I see you ogling that O' Neil chick. You wanna tap the news reporter bruh?"

"No! She's not anything special, man….so what if I find her mildly attractive, it's no big deal!"

"My mind's tellin' me no…but my body, my booooody's tellin' me YEAH!" Raphael dramatically quoted lyrics from 's Bump n' Grind.

"I believe that is enough teasing Master Jones, Master Raphael." Sebastian had a small smile on his face.

"Alright, I'll lay off em' Bastian." Raph wiped his laughter-induced tears away.

"Case, can you do me a solid?" Raph ran a hand through his dreads, a habit that he was beginning to develop quickly.

"Sure thing pal, what'cha need?"

"Two things, we have to set you up with O' Neil AND I need a ride to Mona's crib." Raphael stood up dusting off his all black clothes.

Casey looked at him with a smile.

"What'cha need a ride to Mona's house for, huh Raph?" His blue eyes glinted with a mischievous spark.

"Casey, don't give me that look! I'm just gonna check on her, that's all."

"Just gonna check on her my ass! You know good and damn well that I don't believe you for a second, pal! Every single time you go over to her house, something happens and you end up screwing her. It never fails, man." Casey got up and put his unfinished food in the fridge.

"I resent that shit—no, actually you right, it do happen every single time." Raphael's expression changed to one of mortification as he ran a hair through his dreads in an embarrassing fashion.

Casey gave him a knowing look. His arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the fridge. Sebastian looked between the two of them with a small, conserved grin.

"What? You know yo crazy ass would be doin' the same shit if it was that O'Neil reporter chick!" Raph pointed an accusatory finger at his best friend.

Casey stood there dumbfounded, because he knew he was right.

"That's what I thought, Jones!" The wild youth looked at his friend with his famous sardonic grin.

"Raphael, I gotta talk to you first. Sebastian, can we have a bit of privacy?"

"Of course, sir…I shall leave you be." The butler spoke as he went into the other room.

The silence of the living room was a little eerie for the street tough.

Casey's facial expression became instantly serious.

"What's up bruh? Is you aight, b?" Raphael looked at his friend with a face of concern.

"Not really. You know where Mona Lisa lives, right?"

"Yeah, why you ask?" Raphael's brow shifted up in inquiry.

"So you know that she lives on West Division street right?"

"Yeah what's yah point?" Raph had an almost dry chuckle.

"I just want you to be careful. I know you heard what O'Neil was talkin' about on the news."

"So you do wanna tap that ass, Jones!"

"Damn it Raphael! I'm being serious here!" Casey smacked the kitchen counter to further emphasize his point.

The young man's devious smile disappeared quickly.

"You know the Purple Dragons are gonna be in the area. I'm just sayin' you need to watch yourself, because I don't want you getting' hurt or worse, endin' up dead!"

"I get it, damn! Besides, I got protection." Raphael crossed his arms in a defiant fashion.

"You better not have a gun, Raph."

"Hey chill Jones; it's just some brass knuckles. Also that's some racist ass shit." The young man pulled out a pair of black brass knuckles from his black jeans.

Casey breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Don't kill anyone, okay?"

"I hope you know you bein' racist again right Casey?"

"Alright then, you startin' to remind me of that red echidna who hangs around with that blue hedgehog and yellow fox. Is that better?"

"I know yo ass didn't just compare me to a video game character. Don't make me use these knuckles." Raph could feel a small smile approaching his face.

"So what if I did? What are you gonna do about it, huh?" Jones smiled.

"Don't get me started on you fam, with yo wannabe Jason lookin' ass."

"Let's go before I get my machete." Casey chuckled and walked to the door as Raphael went and got his bag from upstairs. He looked under his bed and pulled out an all-black glock seventeen with a silencer included. He put it in his duffel bag. He thought of what his parents told him when he was younger.

* * *

" _Why are you associating yourself with these hoodlums, Raphael? I thought we taught you better than this?!" His mother spoke in a sour tone._

" _You didn't teach me a damn thing!" The young boy yelled._

" _Don't you yell at your mother like that, boy!"_

" _Who the hell are you supposed to be?! You damn sure ain't my father! The Purple Dragons the only family I got!"_

" _You're just like your alcoholic father! Always making rash decisions before thinking! No wonder why he drank himself to death!" The mother's husband yelled._

" _AT LEAST HE GAVE A RAT'S ASS ABOUT ME!" Raphael swung at the older man, breaking his nose._

* * *

 _Raphael ran out and made his way down the street, vowing to never come back._

He made his way downstairs, and was approached by Sebastian.

"Master Raphael, please be careful."

"How did you-" He began.

"I am old, old enough to see inner turmoil in a young man's eyes. I saw it in Master Jones…I see it in you as well." The butler gave him a small smile and comforting pat on the shoulder. "I will not judge your decisions, but please for Master Jones…stay out of trouble."

Raphael was stunned, no ever cared about him this much next to Casey.

"I'll try. Thanks, Alfred." Raphael smiled with the nickname, when he knew he had just told this man a lie.

The man he had told it to, known it as well. He could see it in his eyes. The steely grey orbs gazed at his emerald with a hidden sense of determination, almost as if he wanted to keep him here. That way he couldn't make a decision he would most definitely regret.

But Raphael was his own man and he couldn't stop him from making the decisions he wanted to make.

Raph walked out and got in Casey's truck, putting his duffel bag in the backseat.

"Try not to screw Mona THIS time, okay? That poor gal is eventually gonna catch feelings for yah." Casey looked at his brother-figure.

"Even if we do end up messin' around, she knows what she gettin' herself into. This is a no-strings attached type deal."

"Yeah, whatever man." Casey said as he drove off.

On the ride there, Raphael was teasing Casey about O'Neil when he got a call from Angel.

"What's up Angel?"

"Raphael, PLEASE HELP! Hun and the Dragons are after me!" He heard her scream from the other line.

"What, where are you at?!" Raph shouted into the phone.

"I'm near where Mona lives! PLEASE HEL—." The line went dead. Casey gave him a look of worry. He stepped on the gas, burning rubber down the

street.

* * *

When they reached the street where Mona lived, the duo began frantically searching for her. It was around nighttime when they got there.

"ANGEL!" The two screamed. Raph's blood was pulsing as he felt his heart was about to burst from his chest.

"ANGIE! Oh my god, Angel is you okay?!" Raph found her body slumped near a wall of an alleyway. Her left leg and right arm seemed twisted and her face was badly bruised. She was the new owner of a black eye, broken nose, and missing teeth. He cradled her unconscious body like he would a child. Her purple hair was matted with dried blood and dirt.

"CASEY, COME QUICK! CASEY!" He called for his friend in a desperate plea. His eyes widened in disbelief and shock.

Casey came running with his hockey stick and mask. When he saw the sight he dropped his stick and ran over to her.

Raphael was teetering between the state of utter despair and wrath. One could almost swear that his acid green eyes were glowing from the pure anger he was generating. His tears felt like hot, salty coal running down his face.

"They did this to me for leaving the gang! I'm killing that motherfucker Hun!" Raphael barked through his tears. He shook with uncontrollable rage and sorrow, complete with growls and snarls.

Casey couldn't help but cry as well as he gave his brother figure a crushing side hug.

"Raph, I know yer angry, fuck, I'm angry too. But you go after the Purple Dragons and they'll kill you. I'm not letting you go kill yourself." Raph looked to his friend and saw the infamous white mask and heard crying and strangled noises. It would've been odd if the situation wasn't a dark one.

"I know you not gonna let these assholes get away with this shit?! You'd do the same fuckin' thing!"

"You ain't me! You either gonna die slowly or go to prison! Both situations end you up in a living hell!"

"Is she still breathing?" Raphael simply asked Casey.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take her to a hospital. You go to Mona's house and STAY THERE! Do not and I mean do not fuckin' look for the Dragons! I'll take care of them myself when I get back." He picked up Angel's body and gave it Jones delicately.

The angered street tough stayed deathly silent, and still as a statue.

"Raph look at me! I'm dead serious, don't go lookin' for them! Do you hear me?!" Casey yelled as he ran to put Angel in the backseat of his truck.

He ran to go give Raphael his duffel bag.

"Do you understand me, Raph?!"

Raphael gave the smallest nod to indicate that he was still alive.

With that, the vigilante burned off into the night.

* * *

Raph knocked on the window to Mona's fire escape. His hands were shaking violently as he kept breathing in and out short bursts of air. The Chicago night was very cold, but the flames in his heart kept him warm.

The window opened and he hopped in. When he saw his longtime friend, he was slightly thrown off from the fact that she was only wearing a pink bra and black basketball shorts. He knew how attractive she was. She was a good eight point five…borderline nine. This is the exact reason why he kept his face down.

A couple of her strands of curly brown hair were dyed green. Her Hispanic skin was a light sandy color in slight contrast to his caramel.

She was clearly doing something with her vanity mirror, when she turned around to face him.

"So Raph, what brings you—holy shit what happened?" She dropped everything and walked up to him.

Raphael gazed at the pink floor of her carpet; he didn't want to look at her gorgeous face and hazel eyes.

Those eyes always calmed the beast inside his soul. No, he wanted to stay infuriated, it was the only thing that made him feel like he was himself.

"Raphael, look at me. Tell me what happened." Her soothing Spanish accent made him not want to become angry any longer.

No, he needed to resist those soulful chocolate windows to his soul. He needed to stay enraged; his anger was all he truly had.

Yes, you could very well argue that he had Mona, Casey, Angel, and hell even Sebastian. But his rage is the only thing that made him…well, him.

"Look at me, _Uno Rojo_." She calmly spoke as she tilted his chin slightly upwards. He couldn't help but relax whenever she said his nickname, especially in Spanish.

When he finally made eye contact with her, his anger disappeared instantly. He was a head taller than her, so she was looking up at him.

"What are you crying for, Raphael?" His ears were secretly delighted in her concerned tone.

"They put Angel in the hospital." His voice slowly said as he tried his hardest to let any more tears flow.

"Please don't tell me you mean,"

His face told her everything. She walked around in a circle slowly.

" _Ay dios mios_." Her voice sounded stressed, because Angel was a good kid. She was a good kid, just caught in the middle of this glorified scheme of revenge.

She walked up to him again and hugged him as tight as she could.

"It's gonna be okay, she's gonna make it. She's the strongest girl I know." She looked at him once more, chocolate brown clashing against acid green.

Raphael looked at her again, and then he decided he couldn't take it anymore and smashed his lips against hers.

* * *

The two slept peacefully in post-coitus until Mona poked Raph in his toned chest. He instantly felt better about everything; it took his mind off of what happened.

"What's up?" He groggily spoke.

"What are we?" She asked with genuine curiosity.

"We're besties. What else would we be?" He sat up in the bed.

"Oh," She began.

"Why'd you ask that, Mona?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

Raphael stiffened in shock. His left eye twitched slightly.

She looked at him in sadness; for she had a strong feeling she made a huge mistake in telling him that.

"You don't love me back do you?"

"I dunno what love is, Mona. We've been two peas in a pod, who have mind blowing sex on the regular. That's all I've ever known."

"You don't want to be more?"

"We can be exclusively non-exclusive." Raph looked down at her small form.

"What does that even mean, _burro_?" She lifted a brow in confusion.

"We have causal, toe curling sex but don't date each other….we also don't date other people."

"How does that even work?"

"Lemme give you a demonstration." He said as he caged her in with his lean body. He started up round number two.

* * *

Raph exited the fire escape fully clothed with his duffel bag, leaving behind an exhausted Mona Lisa in her bed.

He walked down the street in the Chicago night. He made his into a bar. The Morning Wood was its name. A bar that was known for its great drinks and great bar fights. The reason why they were so great is because the owner knew 'mad Kung Fu'. He looked around, observing the crown and sat down.

A bald Japanese man with a medium length grey beard approached him. He wore a burgundy dress shirt, black slacks, and white suspenders. His sleeves were rolled up to showcase the fact that on both of his hands, laid tattoos of a Sakura tree and a brown rodent of some sort.

The elderly man looked quite intoxicated himself, yet somehow perfectly conscious and stable.

"What will you have?" His accent was somewhat thick, but not so thick to the point where you couldn't understand him.

"Uh, I'll take a kiwi strawberry soda and rum on the rocks."

"Fine choice, young man."

Raph felt like he knew this old man, but he couldn't just put his finger on him.

After a couple of those drinks he had, he felt pretty good. He wasn't wasted; he just had a little buzz going on.

He walked outside and checked his phone. He had eight missed calls and fourteen texts. It was around eleven thirty at night. They were mostly from Casey, with one being from Mona.

He turned the corner and ran into the Hun and the Purple Dragons.

His buzz was instantly vanquished as he sobered up quite quickly.

"Hey look it's the fuckin' traitor!" One of them yelled. He pulled out his gun from his duffel bag and shot one of them in the head. The gang member dropped like a fly. He was about to fire off another shot when Hun picked him up and choke slammed him into the pavement. The pain shot through his back like fire.

"So you think you can just leave the Purple Dragons and not suffer the consequences?!" Hun yelled.

They beat him down, with their boots and fists and chains. Hun, the giant blonde thug picked up a lead pipe and beat him continuously with it until Raphael saw stars. His blood painted the streets like a sick and violent art display. The pain was blinding when someone stabbed him in the abdomen with a switch blade. They beat the life outta him again and again until he was slowly accepting the fact that he probably wasn't gonna make it.

It wasn't until Raph was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, that something…more like someone interrupted his beating.

Like a flash, the gang members and Hun were limping like cowards. He felt himself being picked up as he caught glimpses of the ground being littered with...broken wooden pool sticks?

* * *

"Get up." A voice kept telling him.

He slowly opened his eyes to see the very same man who served him his drink.

"Where the hell am I?' That was the first thing he asked, for he noticed two things.

He was alive and he felt like he was in some old school martial arts movie. He looked around a room that looked like a Japanese dojo. There was a giant tree in the middle and banners of the that same Sakura tree around the area.

"You are welcome, young man. I have saved your life." The old man spoke.

He rose up quickly only to have shooting pains flare in his abdomen. He looked down to see bandages wrapped around his stomach…and pretty much everywhere else on his body.

"Where am I though? Thanks, I guess."

"You are in the back of my bar."

The old man gave his clothes, cleanly washed.

He got dressed and staggered around a little bit, still being disoriented from almost having his life taken from him.

"So I noticed you had a feud with the Purple Dragons for leaving them, eh?"

"How did you know that old man?"

"You have a Purple Dragon tattoo on your arm. You were almost killed. Be glad I was there you would have been on a journey to meet Kami."

"Thanks, but I gotta go." Raph was beginning to walk towards the entrance when the old man tripped him.

"What in the fuck was that for?!"

"Your friend Mister Jones gave me a call, told me you needed training."

"How do you know Casey?" The young teen raised back up in a kneeling position.

"We've known each other since you were a teen." The old man walked over to a weapon rack and tossed a strange pair of weapons towards the hardwood floor.

"You seriously gonna train me, old man?" He took one look at the weapons and was instantly confused. "I know you didn't just give me some…ninja forks."

"They're called Sai, perfect for your aggressive and defensive personality."

"Okay, I'll play along, Jackie Chan. Speaking of funny names; you still ain't told me yours. If you gonna be my teacher or master or something, I gotta know your name." Raphael looked at the man's brown eyes.

"Others call me Yoshi…but you can call me Master Splinter."


	3. Chapter 3

Four

Seeing Red III

' _Splinter, what kinda name is that for an old man?'_

"Before we begin, you shall not need this." Splinter grabbed Raph's duffel bag and removed the gun that was in it. He quickly disassembled it right in front of him, almost in a flash.

The parts dropped on the floor with a hard thud. Raph was floored. He kept gripping the sai in astonishment.

 _How did he even know-?_

"How the fuck did you even do that, old man?"

"Watch your language, young man. What is your name?"

Raphael didn't need to tell this old man anything, because he didn't even know if he could trust him. Just because Casey knew him doesn't mean that he should trust. Then again, Casey was only one of the few people that he could trust. Maybe he was thinking too much on this.

Splinter smacked the teen's shoulder with a green cane when he took too long to respond.

"Raphael, the name's Raphael, sir!" The old man chuckled.

"Ah, a name from the Renaissance, how fitting. May I ask who named you?"

"My grandmother named me; she told me my emotional outrages were like messily painted buildings ready to crumble."

"Much like the painter and architect Raphael Sanzio, it makes sense."

"How can I trust you, old man?"

"You don't have to. You can put those sai down right now and walk out that door."

That same door opened to reveal an angry Casey Jones, dressed in civilian clothes, stomping through the room.

Raphael turned only to be picked up by his collar and shoved into a wall. A couple of wooden katana or _bokken_ fell to the floor with a dull thud.

"Do you how long I've spent looking for you?! Hours! Hours, do you hear me?! Why the hell did you leave Mona's house?!" Casey's blue eyes shimmered with anger, as he stared directly into Raph's acid green.

The red haired young man couldn't even make an excuse, for he knew he was wrong.

"ANSWER ME!"

"I left because I wanted a drink, so I came here. I was gonna come back, but then the Purple Dragons stopped me. I took out my gun and shot one of em'. They almost beat me to death but he saved me."

Casey looked at his friend and was truly appalled at his actions.

"YOU HAD A FUCKING GUN?!" Casey threw him on the floor of the dojo.

"Look, I'm sorry okay?" Raphael rose from the floor.

"You damn right you're sorry! You are **so** damn lucky Splinter was here to save your ass!"

"Can we just go home? I'll stop all this craziness, I swear!"

"How can I believe you? I tell you specifically not leave Mona's house and you do it anyway! Bullshit if you think you're going home! I'm not gonna have the Purple Dragons looking for your head. You're staying here with Splinter so he can actually teach you how to control yourself."

"What, I have nowhere else to go!"

"No, you're staying here! Splinter is gonna make sure of it. He's gonna train you whether you like it or not. You can come home when you learn self-control, not a second later."

"That ain't fair man!"

"Too bad, life ain't either. I said I was gonna help you control your anger; this is how I'm gonna do it. Splinter is a good friend; he's saved my ass when I was way in over my head, more times than I can remember. I'm doing the same for you." Casey took a few deep breaths and somewhat calmed down.

Casey looked at his dear friend and his friend's master-to-be.

"I love you, bro. Take good care of him, Splinter."

With that, he left.

"You have anger and resentment in your heart. I can feel it reverberating from the walls of your soul."

"How would you know, old man?" He looked at him in annoyance and anger. He threw the sai to the ground.

"I was once like you, Raphael. When my wife died I drove myself into an alcoholic pit of depression and self-loathing. My daughter distanced herself from me simply because she was afraid of what I had become. Drinking helps heal the pain of my mistakes and failures; it is all I have left. Much like your anger, it fills your shattered inner self with a sense of wholeness. The Purple Dragons are not your only enemy. The enemy you truly face is yourself." As the young teen looked at the elderly man's face he could see wisdom and pain underneath a tired face.

"Those Purple Dragons are the reason why my little adoptive sister is in the hospital."

"Those Purple Dragons are the same reason why you almost ended up dead." He stroked his long beard in thought.

"Can you take me to go see her?" Raphael's voice was pleading which was odd for someone such as him.

"Of course, just know that I may or not be intoxicated from this point on."

"How you gonna teach me Kung Fu or whatever then? What, you gonna be like a drunken Mr. Miyagi or something?"

"A ninja's greatest tactic is the element of surprise." Splinter's brown eyes narrowed in amusement.

"I'm here to see Angel Bridge, ma'am." Raphael asked the receptionist quickly.

"What's your relation to her, sir?" The woman asked him.

"I'm her older brother, ma'am." Raphael was beginning to get impatient as he tapped his foot.

"Okay, can you fill out this form?"

"Can I see my damn sister?!" Raph growled at the middle aged woman.

"She's in room 112, sir." The receptionist muttered quickly.

Raphael walked quickly to the room, his all black ensemble made him look ominous. He slowly opened the door, gazing at her sleeping form. It killed him to see her hooked to an IV and bed ridden with an arm and leg cast.

"Angel," He began quietly.

The violet adolescent stirred awake from the sound of a voice. She jolted up from her laying position because she saw an arm with a Purple Dragon tattoo.

"Please don't hurt me!" Angel quivered in fear.

"Hey Angel, it's me." Seeing the girl he protected from harm in so much emotional trauma, it broke his heart to say the least. Her face look tired and her usually frizzy hair looked disheveled and worn out. When her hazel orbs met his green, she stilled herself.

"Raphael?" Her hazel eyes tried to blink tears, but failed to do so. She brought him down in a tight embrace. Her tears soiled his black shirt. When she released him, he saw fear in her expression.

"Who exactly did this to you? Was it Hun? I swear to god I'll kill that big motherf—!"

"Raphael, please don't be entirely mad at them. I started talking bad about them when they approached me. I started it." Her voice was quiet, which was unusual for her.

"How dare you blame yourself for what happened! They left you to fuckin' die, Ange!"

"Please don't go after them, Raphael. They'll kill you!"

 _It's a little too late for that, Angel._

"No way in hell they ain't gonna pay for what they did you. I got somebody to teach me some ninja shit. I will hunt each and every one of them down, and I won't stop until you're all better. I promise you that, Angel."

"It'll take at least three months for me to get better!"

"I guess I got work to do then."

"Please don't go after them Raphael. You're all I have left, big brother. I can't lose you too." Her words set a cold, cold pit in the bottom of his stomach. She grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him.

But the seething young adult wasn't having any of it.

"You're not gonna lose me, I will fight to last breath to survive and undo the wrong that done to you. I love you, little sis. Get you some rest, Angel." He gave her warm peck on the forehead and sat down near her bed.

The next morning, Splinter walked into the room to find a sleeping Raphael and Angel.

"Raphael." He said as he tapped the red haired young man on the shoulder. The young man jolted up as he was clearly startled.

"We start your training tomorrow morning. You need to get sleep. I am sure Miss Angel shall be fine."

"I gotta stay—wait how do you know her name?"

"A ninja is not without their secrets…also Mr. Jones told me. Are you going to dedicate yourself to this training?"

' _I gotta get strong so I can give those bastards what they got coming. No one hurts my friends and gets away with it. Even if I die, I'm taking that son of bitch Hun with me.'_

"Yes sir. I gotta get stronger so I can make good on that promise I just gave Angel."

"Good."

The dojo was quiet as Raphael was doing push-ups. It was early in the morning too.

He was dressed in a white muscle shirt and black windbreaker pants. His fists and feet were wrapped in white gauze.

Splinter swatted him with his cane.

"Straighten your back, align your fingers, and make sure your chest touches the floor each time."

 _God damn it old man, what stick went up his ass? I guess there's another reason why they call him Splinter._

"This training shall be like nothing you've ever experienced before. I will prepare you for the real world, which means there is no time for games. The Purple Dragons want to kill you for your defection from them. This means I will most likely put you in dangerous situations. Are you sure you want this? I'm giving you the choice to walk out at any time."

Raphael gave him a nod as he continued his push-ups. The burn of his arms was starting to kick in.

"After you feel like your chest is going to collapse, you shall take a ten minute break. Then we commence into sit ups and pull ups."

"Heh, this is easy, old man." The teen felt quite confident….at first.

 _I feel like my chest is about fuckin' collapse in on me, my arms have turned to noodles. Every sit-up felt like a boulder was on top of me. Every pull-up felt like lifting twenty people. My legs and stomach feel like they want to separate from me. I can't even get up. This training isn't as easy as I thought it would be. This old man, I gotta say I'm truly underestimated him._

"Get up, you asked for this." Splinter swatted him in the chest with his green cane…which felt too damn heavy to just be a normal cane.

"Gimme some time to rest, man!" He tried to get up as his arms wobbled strongly. His body was drenched in sweat, it was pooling around the hardwood floor.

"Fine, your training ends at three, and then we will eat."

"What do you mean three?! That's like six hours from now! You're wearin' me out here!"

"Do I hear complaining?" The old man took on a cold voice.

Raphael looked into his hardened brown eyes.

"No, Sensei."

"Good, run back the exercises once more after you are done resting." Splinter stood there with his cane firmly planted onto the floor. He took out a flask, which Raph could only assume was sake.

Raphael internally groaned as he turned over to lie on his back.

 _Fuckin' hell man. This is insane; I'm starting to regret this shit._

He put his weight on his fists and brought his body back up, even though his body was screaming at him to stop, he had to continue.

 _I gotta do this for Angel though; I made a promise to her. I can't go back on my word now, especially just after one day. I gotta pull through…for her._

"I hope you enjoy miso soup and sushi." Splinter walked in the dojo room with a plate full of food. As soon he put the plate down, Raph scarfed it down like a man who hadn't eaten in days.

Not a scrap of food was left on the plate, which was only in a matter of mere minutes.

"What's up with you, Sensei? You look pissed." The young man said as he wiped his mouth with his arm.

"It is none of your concern, Raphael." The elderly man's eyes grew dark as his brows creased.

"C'mon Sensei, what's eatin' ya? We're supposed to have this father-son type thing goin' on—"

"I am **not** your father. You are **not** my son. I am your sensei and that is all. As I told you before it is none of your concern."

"For real man, I know you're my master and all but you ain't gotta be a fuckin' asshole about the shit, damn."

"We will spar and work on kata tomorrow." The elderly master left abruptly.

Raph stood up and looked over to the wall of weapons. He saw the very same sai that Splinter gave him the first day he met him. He walked over and grabbed them. The handle of the sai were very different than what he saw on TV in those ninja movies. They had the same handle that you would see on a samurai sword.

Raphael stared at the other weapons. There were dual wakizashi (short samurai swords), dual Kama, and a staff. He put the weapons back on the rack and decided he was gonna go wash up.

After the shower, he dried off and put on some spare clothes. They weren't really his style but, hey he wasn't complaining. He went to the spare room and fell into a well deserved sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Four

Seeing Red IV

 **Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Here ya go! Just so no one is confused, my plan for the turtles is to have each brother have four chapters to themselves as a small 'arc'. It's to show their lives before they meet. When they do is when the story really picks up( you know ninja stuff and etc.). Another brother's arc is gonna be introduced after this chapter, but I'm not tellin' you it is. Enjoy!**

* * *

Raphael copied the teacher's movements as best as he could.

Strike left.

Swing forward.

Sweep kick.

He messed up the elbow strike.

Splinter straightened the boy's form with several different pokes, prods, and taps to his body.

"You are supposed to propel forward with your weight with one foot, not shove all your weight into your elbow."

 _It's been three weeks into this and it's already gettin' on my damn nerves._

He tried once more, in which he messed up again.

After two hours of cane swats, grunts of annoyance and irritation from both the boy and the elder, and instructions shoved down his throat he finally got them down.

* * *

"Let us test your reflexes." Splinter said calmly as he tossed his cane at him.

Barely dodging it, the cane smacked his ear and hit the wall behind him.

"Yo, what the fuck was that, Splinter?!" He waved his hands in hysteria.

"I said we were going to test your reflexes, Raphael. What did I tell you about your language?"

"How, you expect me not to cuss when you threw a fuckin' cane at me?!"

"I gave you a warning, someone wanting to genuinely take your life, wouldn't have."

 _I'm gettin' real tired of your shit, Sensei._

Raphael picked up the cane and was in the process of giving it back, when he heard the faintest of rattles.

 _Wait just a god damn minute…_

He turned the cane upside down and shook it really hard.

The cane separated as a blade fell to the floor.

"What the—you been hittin' me with a sword this whole time?! What if the blade slipped out and cut me, man?!"

"That is all the more reason to be cautious and mindful of your surroundings, including the people in the surroundings."

"God, you're trying to kill me man." Raphael ran a hand through his dreads.

"If I were trying to kill you, you'd be dead right where you stand already."

Raphael truly had nothing to say to that.

"Let's we move onto weapons next." His voice became hardened once again.

"Pick a weapon from the wall rack. The one you choose will be the main weapon you use from now on, so choose wisely."

 _I looked to those ninja forks, or whatever you call them. I feel as if they called out to me last night._

"I wanna give those ninja forks,"

"They are called sai, Raphael." The elder corrected him quickly.

"-sai a run through,"

He picked up the sai from the wall, the wrap in his hands felt well, like they were made for him.

"So how do I stab a dude with these?" Raph felt giddy at the pain he could cause his enemies.

"Sai are not meant for stabbing…at least not entirely."

Raph looked at his sensei like he was insane.

 _Why the hell not?_

"Aren't these weapons kinda useless then, Sensei?" Raphael had a look of defeat/annoyance. His emerald eyes looked at his hands which held the sai. He didn't like them now nearly as much as he did earlier.

"Oh, so you think these are useless?" Splinter's brown eyes narrowed. He clapped his hands together and let his suspenders hang from his waist.

"Hand me the sai, Raphael." He ordered the young man to do so. After the sai were in his fists, he flipped them to have the points touch the inside of his elbows.

"Pick up the blade from my cane." After he did, he tried to hold the sword like a samurai would.

Splinter put himself in a stance, shifting his feet accordingly.

"Please charge at me with the sword, Raphael." The elderly man did a 'bring it' gesture with the sai.

"Are you sure, Splinter? I don't wanna cut you or anything." Raphael tried to be cautious.

"Heh, I don't think you'll be able to land a scratch on me." The old man's tone was quite cocky.

That ignited something in Raphael, causing him to run at his sensei. He swung the blade wildly.

He was disarmed and on the hardwood floor in a matter of seconds.

 _How in the hell?!_

The boy was utterly confused. When he looked up from his position, he saw Splinter standing there nonchalantly. The master tossed back the blade.

Raph got back up and grabbed the blade. He took another go at it and swung furiously.

Splinter dodged each strike and caught the sword in the sai and hit him in the abdomen, and then proceeded to judo throw him over his shoulder.

Raphael couldn't contain his frustration any longer as he grabbed the blade and got back up again. He screamed as he threw all his weight into his swings.

A similar result happened in which Raph ended up on the ground, groaning in pain.

"Are they so useless now?" The master mocked him.

"Shut it, old man." The boy said who was looking up at the ceiling.

"Your anger blinds you; it will be the death of you. You must control yourself if you want to get anywhere in life. Your rage is the reason why you ended up in jail. Your rash, quick decisions are the reason why you almost got yourself killed." His voice was hard and rough as he spoke to his student. He tossed the sai back down and picked his cane back up as he walked away.

* * *

Raphael had muscled up over a span of a month or two. His musculature was more bulk than lean but he was still a stick compared to Hun. He had gotten quicker and stronger as well. He walked in the dojo when a wooden shuriken flew at him. He caught it with precision and smirked. He wasn't expecting the other one, which hit him dead in the face. He glared daggers at his sensei while rubbing his face in pain.

Splinter was casually eating a bowl of chicken fried rice.

"You must expect the unexpected, Raphael. An enemy could throw shuriken at you, and you'd have no choice but to dodge, catch them, or die. Eat, we're going to be practicing hand to hand combat and weapon sparring next." He slid over a plate and bowl of sushi and hibachi chicken.

After they finished eating, the red haired young man and master bowed and took their fighting style.

Raphael threw a punch, which Splinter blocked. He turned his fist and flipped the boy to the ground.

The angry youth counter and performed a sweeping leg kick, which the elder flipped right over.

Splinter threw a snap kick, flooring the young man once again.

He launched back up. He untied his dreads and let them hang loose. The crimson strands shadowed his face, only letting his acid green eyes shine through. He took a deep breath, letting the oxygen make its way through his body. Time slowed down in that instance.

Splinter charged striking at his student. The young man dodged each strike and parried the last attack; he launched a jab which crushed the wind around his fist, stopping right at his sensei's jugular.

Splinter froze, his brown eyes widened in surprise. He backed away and bowed in pride. Raphael did the same as well.

* * *

The usually rowdy youth was unusually quiet this morning. It was because he was practicing stealth. His footsteps were almost quiet enough to the point where you couldn't even suspect he was there. He brandished his sai and snuck towards his master, lunging at him. Splinter surprised him with a staff to the face. The student back flipped and landed on his feet, he charged at him. Raphael twirled his sai around while doing spins and strikes. The metal cut through the air with short and loud swiping sounds. Splinter disarmed him out of one sai, and Raphael broke the staff in two with the other.

That didn't stop the master though, for he struck him with the two broken parts. The student countered by rolling around him and striking him in back of the knee. Splinter went down to one leg and tripped Raphael. The two rose up as their weapons stopped at each other's necks.

"Good, you've made progress in the last month or so. You can take a break from training if you please." The two men backed off and stood normally.

"So, there ain't any special conditions or nothin'? You just gonna let me go like that? You sure you okay, sensei?"

"I am fine; you may do what you wish for a week or two." Splinter stuck out his hand, which Raph almost tore off from shaking it so much. Raphael took out his phone and dialed up Casey.

"Casey I can come home….Casey. You there, man? I can't hear you! Wait, no! Casey!" The phone went dead quiet. Raphael gave his master a look of distraught and anger.

"Those bastards, the Dragons got Casey!" Raphael grabbed a sword and broke it into multiple pieces with one of his sai.

Raphael looked at his sensei, and they both knew what was gonna happen.

"Those bastards have taken enough from me. They already put Angel in the hospital; they AIN'T takin' Casey away from me!" The angered youth was about to storm out when his master stopped him.

 _I'm not gonna lose the only person who took care of me when I had no one else!_

"Take this, I have an odd feeling you are going to need it." He threw a weighted chain or _mankiri_ at him. "I also suggest you wear all black."

"I thought you said ninjas didn't wear all black. They wore dark blue, white, and sometimes camouflage."

"I did say that, but you are in Chicago of 2016. And you are not a ninja just yet. Now go."

"Wait sensei. What was your problem with me when I said the whole father son type thing?"

Splinter visibly paused and swallowed.

"If you come back here in one piece, I'll tell you all about it. Use your skills wisely."

"But my training is only seventy five percent complete yo."

"You do not have time, go."

Raph took his sai, chain and all black clothing and ran for the nearest Purple Dragon hideout.

* * *

He was silently dashing through rooftops when a bullet whizzed right past his head. If it wasn't for his ninja training, he wouldn't be alive right now. It came from street level, so he was wondering who in the hell would be shooting at him.

He looked to see some biker dude in all black with a Purple Dragon insignia on his bike.

The son of a bitch was going down. Raphael climbed down the building to see the biker riding around looking for him.

The red haired youth threw a shuriken to distract him, which worked successfully. He then wrapped the weighted chain around the guy's throat and yanked him off the bike. The loud screeching of the tires rang throughout the streets.

Raphael ran over to see just exactly was trying to kill him. He took the helmet only to see one of his closest friends who went by the name of Spike, or as he liked to be called…Slash. His face heavily scarred with some scars peeking out from his biker suit.

The former gang member was hurt by seeing one of his most trusted friends want to kill him.

Slash then woke up to see who was standing over him. He grabbed the silenced pistol that was in reach, but Raph swatted it out of his hand. Slash's collar was wrenched up by his former friend.

"Why Slash? I thought we were cool?!"

"When you left the gang, I was alone. I had nobody to protect me from Hun and the others. They did things to me…horrible things man. They locked me in basement because I had ties to you, the traitor. I wouldn't tell them where you had gone to. They beat me and touched me and shit man." Tears began to form in his eyes. His dark almost black eyes looked at Raphael with a sense of brokenness.

Raph couldn't help but feel sorry for him; this was his friend after all.

"When they told me I had to find you and kill you. I had no choice. I didn't want to die! I'm sorry!"

The ninja in training gazed into his eyes…he wasn't lying. His heart broke at those words.

"I'm taking down the Dragons; you won't have to worry about them anymore. I'm warning you, if you try and shoot me…I won't have a choice but to hurt you."

"Thank you," He couldn't say anymore because Raph touched a pressure point on his shoulder, knocking him out.

Raphael took his biker suit and bike. The helmet was a really nice touch, but the bike was just amazing. It was a Yamaha V-Max in a steel grey and black finish.

As he blazed his way to the Purple Dragon hideout, he gripped the handles with determination.

* * *

A couple of Purple Dragons were roughing up Casey. The only reason why he couldn't fight back is because he was tied up in chains against a wooden support beam. The dim warehouse was painted with Casey blood.

"When I get out of here I'm gonna kill you!" Casey spat blood at Hun's face.

"There's no way in hell you're gettin' out!" Hun screamed at the vigilante he backhanded him.

"I think I got somethin' to say to that." A voice spoke from nowhere.

Hun turned to speak to the random voice.

"Who the hell are you?! Show yourself!" The voice finally showed who it belonged to. A man in a biker suit appeared.

"Slash? Did you kill that fuckin' traitor Raphael?" Hun asked as he slammed a fist in Casey's stomach.

"Slash? That guy's long gone. I put him in ground. Looks like you guys are gonna have the same fate if you don't let that dude go." The voice was arrogant and sure of itself. It was definitely male.

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be then, asshole?!" A random member spat out.

 _Shit, I gotta think of a name! It gotta be something cool and not too flashy._

"You haven't heard? I'm the…Nightwatcher."

 _Good job, Raphie boy._

"Nightwatcher, you sound one of those comic book freaks that wear cowls!"

"You won't be saying that shit when I beat your ass like one." Raphael unfurled his chain.

"Nightwatchman, let's see what you got!"

Raphael took down the thugs with some ease; they still got a good few hits in.

Then there was Hun.

"You wanna be a hero, I'm gonna kill you like one!" Hun charged, the brute was in a murderous rampage, blind to the fact that Raphael took out his sai and brought him down to one knee.

He kept throwing hay-makers to the blonde tyrant's jaw. They weren't really affecting him; Raph soon figured this out when Hun threw him up onto the upper walkway. Raph's back was inflamed in pain; it's a good the helmet could take so much damage or his head woulda cracked like eggs.

Raph had one final idea as he wrapped his chain around his open fist.

The sai was gripped in the other hand tightly.

He hopped down from the upper walkway as he charged at Hun, in which he reciprocated.

Their fists blasted power into one another's jaw.

Luckily Hun was knocked unconscious as Raph staggered heavily. His feet couldn't really support him as he couldn't keep balance. Hun was on the floor, his impact made a few cracks in the ground.

Raphael's head and vision swam and he gripped his helmeted head in an attempt to still himself. Once he did, he walked over Hun's body and raised his sai.

He was going to stab him right through the heart.

"He ain't suffered enough! Killing him here would be mercy, Raph!" Casey's gravelly voice yelled.

That made him pause.

"He needs to—wait, damn it. How you'd know it was me?" He took off his helmet, revealing a bleeding nose.

"C'mon Raph, you're my little brother. How could I not know? The stance and cocky demeanor gave it away." Casey still seemed to make a joke even though he was bleeding much more than Raphael.

"Let's get you home, Casey." He unchained him and carried him to his bike.

"I like the name…Nightwatcher. Not as classic as Casey Jones. But it'll work just fine." His smile permeated through his bloody teeth

The two brothers rode off into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Just to let you guys know, This story isn't dead. I'm still very much continuing it, i've just been busy with life and such.

Thank you for reviews you guys have given me. It means a lot seeing as this is my first ever fanfic.


	6. Chapter 6

Four

Silence Speaks I

A young man with thick shoulder length blonde hair and pale skin sat up in a hospital bed. His skin wasn't its usual slightly tanned tone because he had lost so much blood.

He was issued into Mercy Hospital. How ironic, right?

Gauze covered his chest, arms, and neck. His usually bright cerulean eyes which shined life into others, were now dull and sunken. He would've screamed to the top of lungs, spouting foul words as loud as he could, but he wanted to be civil.

"Young man, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. We were lucky to stop the bleeding and such. Your vitals are fine and you're essentially healed. But there was one problem we could not fix."

The young man looked to the doctor with sullen eyes.

"I'm afraid to say that you may not be able to speak for the rest of your life."

The boy didn't say a word…not that he could anyway.

"I understand your silence."

Okay, that was a bit too far. The young man glared at the doctor.

"You have a visitor, young man. I'll leave you two be."

The visitor was none other than his girlfriend of two years, Venus.

She was quirky, like he was. Her blue hair made her stick out like a sore thumb.

"Hey dude."

He was smiling, he was happy to see at least someone who cared about him.

"I don't really know how to say this, but I don't think I can do this anymore."

His smile began to dissipate. He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"The doctor told me what happened. I don't think I can do this, being with while you're mute. That's just a lot of emotional trauma I'm gonna have to go through seeing you like this. You understand, right?"

The young man bowed his head and began to cry.

"Don't cry, dude. I'm sorry that I can't be with you. I just found someone else. I thought you didn't make it. No hard feelings, right?"

He was only in the hospital for about three days.

His head jolted up as he tossed his empty food tray at Venus.

"Ow, the hell's your problem dude?!"

He had known this girl for years and they were the best of friends. Never would he had thought she'd do this to him. He officially hated this woman now, and he didn't do hate. She broke up with him because his inability to speak would cause **her** emotional trauma?!

He growled and angrily pointed his finger to signal that it was time for her to leave. Tears were still streaming down his face.

A week had passed since he was issued out of the hospital by his uncle Leatherhead. Leatherhead was a very bulky but gentle man. His dark skin contrasted his golden eyes. He worked as a scientist at TCRI, but he was also known to dabble in construction as well.

The burning passion and happiness he had once carried in his heart was snuffed out by the terrors of life.

Leatherhead tried to serve his nephew his favorite food: pizza.

But he didn't want it, he didn't want anything.

"Please, M. You must consume something. I understand you are in pain but you must eat."

Leatherhead left the plate in his room as he left.

M decided he was going to go to sleep, wish this all away.

 _He was at the surfing competition, feeling amazing. He felt as if he could take on the world._

 _He rode the wave as his hand glided through the water._

 _He was going to win that ten grand._

 _Life had other plans for him though._

 _He tripped over some fin shaped object, cutting his foot._

 _A shark rushed towards him. He swam as fast as he could, the fear tightening in his chest._

 _He was almost there; he was gonna make it to the shore._

 _But he was a second late, in which the shark's teeth scraped his neck, cutting his throat open._

 _The people grabbed him and tried to help him as fast as they could._

 _He was dying, he could feel it. He felt like a failure._

 _Then the world turned to black._

 _M awoke on the shore with people and medics all around. That's how he became mute, a surfing competition gone awry. He tried to scream but only a gurgling sound came out. His mouth filled with blood and he pressed both hands against the burning in his neck. The water was tinged red, just like his face as he foolishly attempted to breathe._

That's the same nightmare he keeps having over and over again.

He just couldn't stop.

It haunted him every single night. His uncle comes to his room every night multiple occasions to try and calm him down.

A couple of weeks passed, he stayed in bed most of the time.

It wasn't until a week later that Leatherhead felt that his nephew needed to get out of the house.

He went into his room to, in fact, find his nephew sitting in his bed staring at the wall with a blank look in his eyes.

"M, get dressed. We are going out for dinner."

M shook his head furiously.

"Please you must. It's what your parents would want, to be happy. I want you to be happy, my dear nephew."

M looked down as his uncle wrapped his arms around him.

He had to stop crying, it would only make things worse.

The two arrived at their favorite pizza joint, Antonio's.

They were known for their world renowned thin crust. M saw other people at the restaurant…. including Venus and her friends.

He looked at Venus and her new boy…person. He hated it, it tore him apart more than anything. Even being mute.

The dude was more handsome, intelligent, and talkative than he was.

By all means M wasn't a bad looking guy, he was deemed extremely cute by Venus years ago.

But this guy was as cunning as he was handsome, M could see it in the guy's eyes.

Venus had the audacity to wave at him like they were friends. It made it very angry. He wanted to tell her where she could shove her kindness, but seeing as he couldn't speak, so he settled for a death glare.

Antonio walked to their table, and smiled seeing as he and Leatherhead were old friends, although he had never met M before.

"Hey there old pal. This your kid?" Antonio looked to M and smiled.

"No Antonio, He is my nephew." Leatherhead said gently.

"Oh really?! Never told me you had a nephew. What's your name kid?"

M wanted to say his name so badly, so he just looked down in shame.

"He doesn't actually have a name. Some…things have happened to him that have rendered him mute." Leatherhead's tone became quiet and sad.

"Poor kid. You know what, the pizza is the house. As many you want, whatever toppings you want, I'll make em' fresh for you." Antonio's tone was gentle and caring as he put a comforting hand on M's shoulder.

"You don't have to—"

"Nonsense, you're like family. I mean you're the one who helped this place not get shut down. I owe everything."

"I appreciate the kind gesture, Antonio."

Maybe M was gonna get better, maybe him being mute wasn't such a bad thing. 

.


	7. Chapter 7

Four

Silence Speaks II

William Lockland., better known as Leatherhead by his friends and nephew, was on his way to work. He had just said goodbye to his dear nephew, and stepped out of the house. His truck was old but reliable. Leatherhead was a gentle giant, who would never hurt a soul. He didn't like violence, as he didn't want to corrupt M's pure heart, and because he enjoyed peace as much as possible.

But he knew he couldn't protect him from everything. M would have to be his own man eventually.

M was the one thing in his life that made him happy. He took care of him as much as he could. His parents couldn't take care of him because of they were worried about their careers than their own son. They dropped M off to him and from then on, Leatherhead treated him like the son he never had.

His bright blonde hair and beaming smile, the azure pools he had for eyes made you feel like you were looking at a dimension of wonder and imagination. His freckles were little specks of child-like individuality.

But when M lost his ability to speak, that dimension in his eyes faded away. The light that brought you joy and wonder was gone.

All Leatherhead saw was a young man with nothing to live for, and it killed him inside.

He appeared at the contractor site, with tools and such in hand.

He couldn't help but sense something was amiss as he as his fellow construction workers were doing their job. They were constructing a new corporate building for some the scientific company. Leatherhead believed they were referred to as Krang & Co. It was rumored that Krang & Co were working with Saki Corps. Which is ironic seeing as he was a scientist for TCRI.

He heard arguing amongst them, so he decided to go and check it out.

"My dear friends, what seems to be the problem?" Leatherhead clasped his hands together in a calm manner.

"He stole my friggin' lunch!" Mark pointed his fingers at Joe, who was in fact eating his lunch.

Mark was a man who was kind and generous, much like he was. He had brown hair and brown eyes and was pretty in shape.

"That is fine, let him have it. After we are finished for today, we may go get lunch. How does that sound?"

"You don't have to-"

"I insist, my friend." Leatherhead wasn't going to have anyone be unhappy if it was something he could remedy.

"Thanks, man. Means a lot."

The men continued their work until it was time to go.

* * *

Afterwards, Mark and Leatherhead had lunch at Antonio's. Mark was the only other friend that he had next to Antonio.

Leatherhead had the pizza that he and M favored the most: pepperoni and pineapples. Mark had chicken alfredo pasta.

"I just wanna thank you for doing this for me, Will." Mark said softly.

"Please, the pleasure is mine friend." Leatherhead's big, bulky frame was slightly comical to the smaller man's appearance. His firm but soothing voice also made it even more strange.

Antonio came out to ask the two men if they needed anything else. When he looked to Leatherhead's calm but deeply troubled facial expression, he was worried. He hid it well, hid from everyone except Antonio.

He called him to talk in private. It was odd to see how Leatherhead towered over everyone in his life, including Antonio.

"What seems to be the problem, big guy?"

"There is nothing wrong dear friend."

"Look, Will. I've known you for years. I know when something's up with you." Antonio's slightly wrinkled eyes creased in worry.

Leatherhead had a deep sigh of pain.

"My dear nephew's life altering accident has emotionally and mentally changed him for the worse. I fear he shall never be the same."

"Well, the kid was dealt a pretty rough hand. But, you gotta work with the hand life gave ya."

"I understand. Listen closely my friend. If anything happens to me, watch over M. Please, he is all I have left."

"Sure thing, William. I'll treat him like he was my own. I'd do anything for you guys, especially after you saved my life by beating the crap outta the guys who tried to rob this place. This place is all I have left as well."

Leatherhead had a flash from the past, envisioning the violent bouts of rage and pure wrath he experienced when those muggers tried to rob the place and kill Antonio.

If anyone threatened him, he would attempt to avoid an altercation as much as possible.

But threaten the people he cares about, and he would show you true fear.

It made him feel like a monster. He often had nightmares of being some giant mutant alligator ripping people to shreds. But he didn't like doing those things.

Especially with M in his life now.

"Thank you my dear friend." He said as he left the shop. He went to TCRI building to work on a formula that just may render M unmute again.

* * *

As he arrived at the building, he sensed something was wrong. One of his friends, the esteemed Professor Honeycutt, should've have been working on his studies by this time.

Honeycutt was a man of science as he was. Often his fellow scientists would compare him to a robot or something.

What Leatherhead saw shocked him to his utter core.

Ominous men in black suits and ties were standing over Honeycutt's lifeless body. Books and broken flasks were strewn everywhere.

Leatherhead takes out his phone to call the police.

The police get there was fast as they could.

* * *

"What happened here, sir?" An officer asks the clearly shaken man.

"These men in black suits had something to do with my friend's murder."

"Do you know where they might've gone to? I don't see these men in black suits." Another officer asked as he checked to the crime scene.

"What? They were right there just a few minutes ago!" Leatherhead wasn't delusional.

The officer looked at the blood on his hands as he kneeled over his friend's corpse.

"We have the evidence we need, sir. You're going to have to come with us."

"What? I didn't do this, I had nothing to do with this!"

"Your prints are all over the crime scene. If you didn't do it. Who did?"

"I told you, the men in black!"

As Leatherhead said that, a storage closet flew open, and out fell a dead security guard.

The officers looked at him directly.

"Sir, you're under arrest for the murder of Professor Honeycutt." The officers cuffed him and led him to the car.

"I didn't kill my friend! I didn't do this!" His cries fell on deaf ears as he was shoved into the car.

The only thing he could think of was his dear nephew.

M was skating down the towards the library on his skateboard. He had stashed a couple of spray paint cans in his backpack, just in case he wanted to tag a few rooftops on the way home.

* * *

Was it illegal? Yeah.

Did he care? Not nearly as much as he should.

Skating made him happy, although it did remind him of surfing…and we all know how that went down. Nevertheless, M was very talented in many things: dancing, skating, parkour, writing and most importantly, graffiti.

His wooden-metal hybrid skateboard was modified for speed and style, allowing him to do tricks and catch some major miles in case he needed a quick getaway. The graphic deck was a graffiti piece of an orange joyful dragon swirling through cloudy music notes. It was his proudest work.

His talents made up for what he lacked, which was good he guessed.

But that didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

Especially when he headed into the library and the librarian asked him if he wanted to check out a book.

"Hello there, are you looking for anything in particular?" He looked at her and realized she was quite cute in a nerdy kinda way. She had long blonde hair and big, piercing hazel eyes which were made even bigger by her thick glasses.

All that came out was a strangled wheezing sound. The librarian looked at him in a strange way.

"Sir, are you okay?"

He forgot that he couldn't speak anymore, and that made him feel worthless.

He didn't know any sign language so he couldn't communicate with her. So he just looked down at his lap in shame and self-loathing.

"Sir, is there something wrong with your voice?" She asked him softly as she put her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded subtly.

"Can you not speak?"

He nodded again.

"I'm so sorry. Do you want some paper?" It hurt her heart to see the cute guy all down.

He had a small smile on his face as she gave him a pen and paper.

"Do you have a name?"

He shook his head.

Hours and hours passed on as the two had a written conversation. It made him happy that he could communicate with someone else by not just talking to them.

He had eventually found her name to be Renet.

* * *

When the young man left the library, it was approaching nighttime.

He cruised his way down the streets and eventually reached his house. Although, when he got there he noticed something off. He didn't see his uncle's truck out in the driveway.

That was quite odd because he was never out this late.

He went inside and relished over the fact that he had a new friend, someone who didn't think he was weird.

He drew and wrote and danced his way into happiness. It's a shame that wouldn't last for long.

He heard a knock on the front door. Who could be at his house this late?

He looked through the peephole and saw it was a police officer.

He did graffiti, but he was sure that they wouldn't know that. You can never be too sure, though.

The door was opened slightly.

"Hello, are you the nephew of William Lockland?"

M simply nodded. Why would a cop be asking about his uncle?

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your uncle has been arrested for the murder of Professor Honeycutt." The cop's face was sullen as he said this.

M just shook his head no, not because he couldn't speak but because he just refused to believe it. He slowly backed away in shock as tears formed in his eyes.

"Are you okay, sir? I understand that this is a very hard thing to deal with."

M couldn't scream, so a horrifying wheezing sound leaped from his lungs. He shook and fell to his knees in pain and confusion.

He vaguely kept repeating a strangled, choking noise that sounded almost like 'no', but actually wasn't.

He threw his arms wildly as the officer tried to console the hysterical young man. It was his way of saying 'get away from me'.

"Sir, please calm down. It's going to be okay."

His uncle was the only good thing he had in his life. No girlfriend, no parents, no friends, just good ol' uncle Leatherhead.

He refused to believe that his dear gentle giant of an uncle would kill someone.

It just didn't seem right.

* * *

The officer took M down to the station to ask him some questions.

"Young man, do you know if Mr. Lockland had a former history of violence? Any idea of what would spring him back to said life of violence?"

M simply looked at him in anger. He knew that his uncle didn't do it, he didn't know why…. he just knew.

The boy nodded no.

M's dark green hoodie and cargo shorts felt heavy on him, the emotions were weighing him down as well. He rolled his board around with his Converse on the grip tape.

The whites and blues of the police station made him feel uneasy. They were supposed to be colors of peace and honor but all he saw were solitude and sadness. He didn't like it, not at all.

The police kept telling him information that he honestly was drowning out until he asked him if he was okay to leave.

M nodded and rolled out on his board.

M knew in his heart that his uncle didn't kill the professor dude.

He was gonna make it his mission to find out who did.

M got a call the next morning. He didn't get much sleep, the horrid thoughts kept him up late at night.

He noticed the call was from that Antonio guy that his uncle was friends with.

M rolled down to the pizza shop early in the morning. When he opened the door, Antonio looked at him with a distraught face.

The blonde boy rose an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I heard what happened on the news. He told me that if anything happened to him, I had to look after you, kid. I know it's hard to take in."

Antonio walked closer to the boy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You still don't have a name do ya, kid?"

He simply nodded no.

"Well, if you made that drawing on that skateboard of yours, I'd say you're a real Michelangelo himself."

That made the boy smile.

"You like that name? How's about I call you Michelangelo and Mikey for short?"

The boy agreed to his new name and gave the pizza owner a hug.

"You're gonna be alright, Mikey. Good ol' Antonio is gonna take care of ya." The middle-aged man laughed heartily. "If you need anything from me, and I mean anything, I got ya kiddo."

Mikey smiled sadly as he just let it all out. The tears, the wheezing screams of anger and pain, everything.

It hurt, a lot. He knew that he had to stay strong, for uncle Leatherhead, for Antonio, for his new friend Renet.

Even for himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Four II

Silence Speaks III

Mikey's feet were shifting slightly as they scraped against the green grip tape of his beloved skateboard. The board propelled him down the street as he jammed out to one of his favorite songs. Bright orange headphones blasted out indie rock, instrumentals, and hip-hop remixes of his favorite anime. Oh, and trap metal.

A grind on a rail here, a pop shove it over some stairs there, a kick-flip across a bench nearby.

The sun was shining and the clouds were fluffy and full of life. It was almost like looking at cotton candy.

The streets of Chicago were looking lovely today.

His blonde hair was blown back by the wind, and his cerulean eyes shimmered in the sunlight. His short stature of 5'8 made it easy to slide under trailers and the like. His baggy hoodie and shorts made him seem like a small child. But his big eyes and hyper demeanor made him seem even more so.

The swelling feeling of joy that he felt soaring in his chest was making his day amazing.

He was learning to live with the fact that he might never talk again. But he had to figure out who framed his uncle and why they did it.

Did it piss him off? Of course it did. Then his heart sunk as he thought about his uncle.

But he had to keep on trucking….or skating.

* * *

As he arrived at Antonio's pizza shop, he was greeted by said owner with a bright smile.

This was the first day of his new job. Antonio told him to use his skills as an artist, albeit illegal, to spice up the joint. He would also help him make pizzas for customers. The reason why he got this job in the first place is because he needed to pay for martial arts lessons, in order to track down his uncle's framers.

"Hey there, kiddo! How ya feeling'?"

The clack of the board and the thump of the backpack against the floor told him how he was feeling…and it wasn't good.

"What's wrong Mike?"

The young man's shoulders lifted in confusion.

"What do ya mean you don't know?" Antonio's hands were covered with pizza dough residue as he grabbed a towel.

Mikey lifted a finger to his chin in thought. He showed the middle aged man a picture of Leatherhead from his phone.

"Oh kid. The best thing we can do is pray he's alright."

The blonde eighteen-year-old didn't like that answer, it wasn't satisfactory enough for him.

The front door ringing open alerted them both as they turned to see a young brown skinned male with bright red hair. Each step he took was with confidence, his all black outfit ruffled every time his combat boots hit the floor. His acid green eyes could burn a hole right through you and his almost constant scowl made him unapproachable.

"Hey there kind sir, could you take care of this fella Mike?" The adult spoke with a tone of overflowing warmth and kindness as he walked to the back.

Mikey's feet were scurrying to the register in anticipation.

"Do you guys sell by the slice?" The deep Brooklyn-accented voice had an edge to it.

The two young men made eye contact and the scowl coming from the man sent chills down Mikey's spine.

He analyzed this young man's face with curious eyes. The black piercings that adorned his and the gold earring on his left ear that read out 'suicide' made him both uncomfortable and intrigued.

"You gonna take a picture or what, man? Do you guys sell by the slice or not?" The stranger's eyes narrowed as he shifted his jaw.

Mikey's lips parted as if he wanted to say something so badly.

"Look, I'm trying to have a good day. So if you gonna say something, you might wanna do it now while I'm still asking nicely." The stranger's voice was clearly comparable to a shark baring his teeth.

The blonde bowed his head as his fists curled, he began shaking in anger and frustration as tears pricked his eyes. His soul wanted to scream in shame and sorrow but he knew deep down that he couldn't do anything. All that was gonna come out was a broken wheezing sound fit for a beat-up car.

"You hard of hearing, pal? I ain't particularly a fan of repeating myself. I've had a really stressful week and all I want is some damn pizza." The stranger's tone was definitely becoming close to angry. His palms were slammed against the countertop.

Mike abruptly ran to the back room while tears were threatening to spill from his eyes.

Antonio had seen the crying boy walk into the back room and his heart was broken. The forty-year-old man walked to the register with a heavy heart. Lord knows the kid had already been through enough.

The red haired stranger was impatiently waiting there by the register, fingers tapping against the countertop.

"Sorry sir, kid's had a hell of a week. It's his first day. What kind do you want?" Antonio's chest was weighing was swelling with pain because he felt for Mikey.

The customer's face visibly softened because he could relate to the kid.

"Uh, yeah. I'll take two slices of jalapeno and sausage." His voice was a tad bit calmer, feeling a little bad that he had went a little left on the new guy.

"Alright then, coming right up."

Antonio walked right up to Mikey to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You okay, kid?"

Antonio knew the answer, he just felt better asking. Michelangelo's teary gaze didn't make him feel any better.

"Ah, you wanna head home and come back tomorrow with a clear head? I can handle things from here."

A swift nod and a wipe of his eyes confirmed the answer to his question.

Mikey headed to the front with his board and bag in hand.

He passed by the red haired stranger when he was stopped.

"Sorry." The customer was served his food and went on about his day.

Mikey's mouth parted but decided not to chance it and he walked out the door. His board hit the ground and he was off.

* * *

The library was beginning to become the mute's fortress of solitude…or maybe even the batcave. It's a place he found himself coming there more and more…for some reason he didn't know why.

When he entered, he saw his friend Renet deep in a book. She was so entranced in it, she probably didn't notice anything else around her. He found it kind of funny.

He walked over to her table she was at and took a seat. He even plopped his board and bag down and she still didn't respond to a thing. A mischievous grin formed on his face. Even his freckles added to his anime like grin.

He knocked on the table softly.

The book flew a good ten feet in the air as she jerked up with a cute little noise.

"Eeep!"

Mikey doubled over in his silent laughter, clutching his abdomen in amusement.

"Don't do that!" Her voice was slightly squeaky; it was very adorable.

She picked her book up and smoothed out her usual library attire, which consisted of: a white dress shirt a dark blue tie and a pencil skirt. Her long blonde hair was tied up into a messy bun with a pencil.

"What are you doing here, guy?" Her golden eyebrow raised in confusion.

He took out a piece of paper and looked for a pencil. He didn't have one so took the one that held up her hair. She slightly jerked at the action, and tried to get it back but he was already drawing with it.

She suddenly became interested in what he was drawing. The quick, messy strokes of the pencil intrigued her.

Once he finished, he showed her what he had drawn. Her face was amazed by what he had done. It was a messy sketch of the statue Moses by Michelangelo Buonarroti himself.

"That's amazing!" Her voice was filled with wonder and interest.

The silent boy pointed to himself….and then to the picture.

"The statue was made by Michelangelo…wait…is that your name?"

He nodded happily.

"I'm so glad you have a name now. Is it okay if I call you Mike or Mikey?" She took off her glasses to clean them with her tie.

Two thumbs up were given as an expression full of happiness and then he paused slightly.

"What, is something wrong?"

He pointed at her, his face was in complete awe.

"What, is there a spider on me or something?" She looked only to find nothing there.

Mikey began to blush. Her hazel eyes were gazing back at him in nerd-like innocence.

"What's wrong, do you have a fever, Mikey? Why are you turning red?"

He looked at a comic book in the aisle near them to get his mind off of her.

"Since your looking at the comic book section, what heroes do you like?"

Mikey causally made pointy ears with his fingers and an overly serious face, and thwipping hands.

A glorious sound made his ears twitch. That glorious sound was her giggling.

"Was that supposed to be Batman and Spider-Man? I'm more of a Bat-Girl and TMNT girl. You're very funny, you know? You remind me of my favorite turtle, whose name is also Michelangelo."

Mike was feeling very proud of himself, so much that he made an 'oh yeah?' face.

He walked over to his backpack and pulled out an orange box that was the size of a Rubik's cube. He took his phone from his pocket and played a song. The orange box turned out to be a speaker.

 _Downtown we let it go_

 _Sunset high and our bodies low_

 _Blood rush in the hazy glow_

 _My hands, your bones_

He gestured over to her with an outstretched hand.

She stiffened visibly and paled. Her eyes widened as she began to slightly shake her head.

"If you're asking me to dance with you, I would but I dunno how." Her smooth porcelain skin was blushing more red than a rose.

Mikey wasn't gonna take no for an answer, so he grabbed her and pulled her to him. She was only an inch taller than he was, so it wasn't too difficult for him to work with.

He looked at her, almost as if to say 'just follow me.'

It wasn't too long before she got the hang of it. But it wasn't of course without her stepping on his feet a few times.

 _Loose up we break the scene_

 _One step deep as you fall to me_

 _Heart clap, we skip a beat_

 _Count one two three_

He analyzed the details of her face. The shiny blonde hair and her golden-brown eyes. Her button nose and her cute little smile. The clumsy way she walked in heels. He found it very endearing. They just danced around the library. She kept babbling on about her obsession with time travel and how her mother wanted her to be a doctor instead of a librarian. Mikey just silently watched as he listened to her speak for hours.

 _And don't you stop the music_

 _Get into it_

 _Won't you dance with me?_

"Michelangelo, do you think I'm a shut in because I'm the only employee who works at a library that no one goes to?" Her face and voice were thoughtful yet concerned.

He shook his head no and smiled with thoughtfulness.

 _Move your feet and feel it in the space between_

 _You gotta give yourself a moment, let your body be_

 _We gotta lose it_

 _We gotta lose it_

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you become mute?"

His face visibly saddened, it was something that haunted him.

 _Your name I'll never know_

 _As we get down in the world below_

 _Caught up in an overflow_

 _My hands, your bones_

"If you don't want to answer, it's okay. I'll understand." Her hazel orbs magnified by her black glasses.

He shook his head no so he sat them down.

He drew the experience for her on a piece of paper. He made sure that it was extremely vivid.

She never knew how horrifying such a simple picture could be, her hands raised to her mouth in horror.

There was a representation of a him, the ocean and a shark. The water was filled with blood as his body floated like a lifeless doll.

 _Wide eyed, you look at me_

 _Set on fire in a silver dream_

 _Spin round you can feel the breeze_

 _Count one, two, three_

"You were attacked by a shark?! Jesus, I'm so sorry Mike." It was like if you kicked a litter puppy, that was how sad she sounded when she spoke to him.

She rose and hugged him, fully encasing him in her warmth. He wrapped his arms around her as well.

And then he realized something, his eyes widened in both equal parts shock and wonder. He liked this girl…what she did to him, was nothing like how he felt with Venus. It was a simple glowing warmth in his chest, that he had to think about each time he saw her.

But then he thought of why Venus left him in the first place. No one wanted to be with a mute guy. Then again, he saw the way she looked at him as well. So she could like him as well.

But he had to know for sure. He'd find out…just not today.

Michelangelo rose up and grabbed his board and bag.

"Are you leaving, Mike?"

He simply nodded yes.

"I was hoping you could walk me home? I'm about to close the library. It's almost six."

He nodded once more.

Renet closed the library and they walked home together. Renet crossed her arm with his, him blushing furiously as she did. She was completely oblivious to the fact that he liked her. She was just being friendly…right?

Today wasn't terrible, it wasn't great but hey…just another day.

 _Find a place and lose it_

 _You can do it_

 _Won't you dance with me?_


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm very sorry about the inconsistent pace of which I'm posting these chapters. My work ethic...well, needs work. But here it is.**

 **Also side note: Raphael is originally from Brooklyn, so he has the slang of a black Brooklyn dweller. Also thank Koalagriton for her guidance on this very story. Go hug her or i WILL sic Raphael on you.**

 **Enjoy, Read and Review!**

 **Also, give me suggestions on how i can make the story better, thanks!**

* * *

Four

Silence Speaks IV

Michelangelo sat in his room wondering why all of this happened to him. Losing his voice, Venus breaking up with him, his uncle getting framed for a crime he didn't commit. All the pain he's been experiencing was weighing him down.

Sure, he found happiness in meeting Antonio and Renet, but it wasn't enough. Simply because happiness is only circumstantial. It only lasts for a while until the terrors of life truly snuffs out the light.

There was something inside of him that made him hate himself. He picked up his phone and skimmed through a bunch of videos…until he stopped on a certain one. It was him talking about a gnarly wave he was gonna catch on the beach.

" _Venus, did you catch that, dude?! It was mega Mondo!"_ In the video, Mikey gestured the surf's up symbol and pretends he's riding his surfboard. His Californian accent bled through each syllable he spoke.

" _Yes, I caught it dude! Are you gonna ride the wave_?" Her voice was still sweet as ever, even though he couldn't imagine it as anything other than fake now.

" _I'm gonna win that surfing competition bro, I can taste the victory already! Chicago, get ready for California's very own-"_ In the video, Michelangelo's eyes were bright and his freckled face was full of life.

Mikey had to pause the video in order to stop from having a panic attack. The muscles in his face contorted to a twisted image of anguish-laced joy. His heart was being torn in two from being happy to hear himself speak again, but pained to not actually speak for himself. In order to try and calm himself, he decided he was gonna head down to the skate park and tag a couple spots.

* * *

Mikey was playing some music from his speaker, which somewhat helped ease his mood. The cool night air made him wear his slim pullover hoodie and black jeans. His hi-top sneakers were worn out from skating and breakdancing so much.

 _Four elements..._

 _There's DJ'ing_

 _There's breaking_

 _There's graffiti_

 _And then there's the emcee_

The spray from the can was soothing to him as he painted the ground of the park. He decided to pick four colors to create his piece. Beginning with orange, at random he chose: red, blue, and purple.

 _Top of the food chain, devouring the competition_

 _Abort mission cause it's the bomb like nuclear fission_

 _To go against the awesomeness, now that's a bad decision_

 _Cause listen they steady dropping shit like a flock of pigeons_

 _So listen as I paddle up your ear canals, torrential_

 _Waters on instrumentals, feeding you vitamin and all essentials_

He didn't know why he chose those colors, but he was gonna paint with them anyway.

As he got really creative with the piece, he stopped and realized what he had drawn.

It was a turtle shell with colored tape strewn across it. The red and blue pieces were torn and taped back together while the orange and purple sat neatly beside each other. The red had a tendency of coming through the purple and orange though. They all came back to the center of the shell in a neat yet frayed, multicolored bow.

 _Potential's monumental when it comes to hip-hop_

 _Making a terror stop is like holding back a triceratops_

 _Our ratios replacing those, wannabes you're facing pros_

 _Screaming 'bout your drugs, money, violence and fellatios_

 _Stereotypes got you blind like Venetians_

 _This bullshit their speaking's causing o-zone depletion_

It reminded him of the tattoo of the turtle shell he got on his back, albeit without the taped art.

It wasn't until he heard a noise that his eyes were torn away from his nearly finished piece. He turned off the music and gathered all his things. The hairs on his neck stood and sent lightning quick shivers through his spine.

His normal instinct should've been to just leave it alone. But some people can't leave well enough alone. He noticed a warehouse that was left ajar. His curiosity was gonna get him messed up, especially at night. He had heard all about the cat when he was kid from his uncle.

As he went inside the warehouse he saw a laptop perched on a desk. Which had footage of men in black suits standing over a scientist, who he thought was probably dead. It was a very eerie scene to say the least.

That wasn't the part that was crazy. He saw his uncle Leatherhead hiding in the background. The footage then abruptly changed to his uncle covered in blood as he was kneeling over the dead scientist.

An icy, frozen pit formed in Mikey's chest. Shivers coursed through his frame, rattling him to his core. His mouth became dry in fear and horror. His throat constricted in disgust. He couldn't find himself tearing his eyes from the sight. His backpack felt heavy on him for some reason, but he didn't notice that it was unzipped halfway.

He got the strange feeling that someone was behind him, his suspicions were confirmed.

With a slight turn of the head, he saw those same men in black dress suits gazing back at him. Their stares were cold and inhuman like.

Next thing he knew he was struck in the face with a rigid hand. His body crumpled to the floor. A couple of paint cans flew from his bag. They stood over him ominously, almost like shadows or creatures of some sort.

The fear set in his heart as it pounded from his chest. Crawling like a man possessed, he tried to escape. A death like grip was clamped to his ankle as he was dragged across the floor. Fists and feet slammed into his body like hammers, fracturing his structure like a wrecking ball to a building. He instantly reached for a can and brightly colored misty liquid launched itself into one of their eyes.

That didn't work.

Mikey tried to scream for help, but only a wretched screeching noise tore from his throat. Their limbs left deep seated bruises and dents again and again.

It wasn't too long until he just gave up. He accepted the fact that he might very well die that night.

He couldn't see his uncle, the person who raised him like he was his own.

He couldn't see Mr. Antonio, the person who treated him with care and respect.

He couldn't see Renet, the girl that amazed him each and every day. She accepted his muteness, she treated him like a person and not an accident.

All he could see was black. The darkness creeping upon him. The dark figure of death gently leading him to the light. The pain was almost an afterthought. He was slowly seeing the pitch black figure sprint towards, wanting to protect from any more horror this world had to offer him.

He was ready to die, at least he could talk in the afterlife.

But the something odd happened in his near death state. He faintly heard something akin to…a motorcycle? The very same dark figure unleashed a black chain and whipped across the men who were beating him. They were ripped off of his broken and beaten body.

Death…was letting him live? That didn't make a lick of sense.

He saw glimpses of the dark figure beating the men down, even going so far as to stab one of them in the head with a three pronged weapon. Violet blood leaked from their skull as something was sparking…like circuits of some sort?

The black became too much as he fell into the darkness.

 _Stay with me kid!_

 _Stay with me damn it!_

* * *

"Yo, wake up. Don't you fuckin' die on me, b. I got too much damn blood on this shit as it is." A familiar Brooklyn accented voice spoke harshly.

As he faded in and out of consciousness, he saw glimpses of brown and red.

When His eyes were heavy with exhaustion and his breathing was slow. His cerulean orbs were taxed with opening to see the very same dark figure who had saved his life.

"You up, kid?"

Michelangelo shot up and looked up at the man.

He tried to move, when a searing pain shot through his body. He looked around to see a brown room…that looked like a dojo of some sorts.

"It is best if you try not to move, young man." A Japanese accented voice came towards his vicinity. He turned to see a tall and elderly man tower over him.

"You got a name, little dude?" The biker ninja asked him.

Michelangelo nodded in response.

"….can you tell me?" He countered.

The boy shook his head. He noticed his board and bag were in the room, he was very cautious as he didn't know these people.

He sighed harshly, shaking his helmeted head.

"Why the hell not?!" He grunted.

"Have you ever taken into consideration that he cannot tell you his name because he cannot speak?"

The masked biker never thought about that.

"My bad, dude."

"Do you think you should reveal yourself to him? It isn't like he will tell anyone." The Japanese man eyed the blonde boy evenly.

"Yeah, guess you right Master Splinter."

So the man's name was Splinter. He looked like more of a tall Mr. Miyagi to be honest.

"Alright, don't freak out when I take this off." He removed the helmet slowly.

The second the helmet was off, the boy's eyes widened in shock, his body began heaving in large amounts of air.

"Hey, calm the hell down, kid!" It turned out to be the very same man he met at the pizza shop. The red hair and green eyes were that memorable.

"I'm Raphael. But people call me Raph."

"It seems you were badly beaten by those men that Raphael saved you from. Are you going to be okay?"

Mikey nodded as he pulled his bag closer to his chest.

"So I saw you got some paint cans in there, you an artist or something?"

He nodded again.

"You also got some skates in there. What, you some character from Jet Set Radio too?" Raph chuckled lowly.

Mikey's ringtone began to play a song from that very said game.

"I'll take that as a yes." Raph looked at the mute boy.

"I shall see that you are appointed a guardian, so the next time you are protected. Raphael, you shall be this young man's watcher."

"What! Why me, man?!"

"I shall certainly not do it, and you can learn a thing or two from him." Splinter turned at looked at the bruised boy.

Raph grumbled as he walked in the other room to change.

"Is there any name you would like me to call you?" Splinter was kind with the boy.

Mikey nodded and pointed to a sticker on his skateboard.

"Michelangelo? Hmm, it seems that you and Raphael both have Renaissance names. How interesting."

Michelangelo sheepishly scratched his hair.

"Are you hungry, Michelangelo? Do you like sushi? You may have some if you like?" His voice was like the wind: firm but gentle.

Mikey absently nodded as he slowly rose from the floor.

* * *

As Splinter came back from the kitchen, he witnessed a feat he didn't expect from the boy.

Michelangelo was quite skillfully twirling a pair on nunchaku around like it was nothing. Even in his injured state, he was doing quite well. He also heard the sounds of Bruce Lee. It seemed he was imitating the actions of him.

Splinter let the boy go unnoticed just to see him continue.

Raphael came back into the room in a fresh change of clothes.

"Yo, you wanna knock yourself out with those?!"

Mikey was startled and hit himself in the groin, he hit the ground. He dropped them as if they were burning, feeling like a small child being caught.

"What are you even doin' with these, man? Splinter's gonna tear you a new one." Raph grunted in annoyance as he picked up the weapons and put them back on the wall.

"He was doing quite well actually. Michelangelo, how would you like train under me?"

They both jumped at the sound of his voice. Mikey felt flustered as he slowly rose from floor.

A swirling of feelings rose in his chest, it was mainly a feeling of dread but was laced with curiosity and intrigue.

The boy felt a small smile rise to his face as he accepted his offer.


	10. Chapter 10

Four

Warm Heart, Cold Soul I

 **Thank you guys so much for the reviews. Seriously, it means a lot. I don't own TMNT, because if i did, this would already be a new show by now.**

 **But enough chit-chat, onto our next brother.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Leave a review and tell me what you thought about it, it helps a bunch.**

* * *

"Ok class, does anyone remember a famous quote from Abraham Lincoln?" A fairly young man stood at the board with a ruler. His skin was a tad pale and his hair was a sandy brown. The most striking thing about him was: his thin 6'2 stature, his gentle and mild Japanese accent, and his brown-red eyes.

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character; give him power." A small child rose their hand in courage.

"Excellent, Marissa."

"Thank you, Donnie-sensei!"

The young teacher chuckled at the little name his class had given him. These middle school students were his life, and they made him happy.

"Class, remember. You can call me . Donnie-sensei sounds like I belong in some anime." His soft and gentle voice added to his polite and caring demeanor.

"But sensei means teacher where you come from! Plus, it sounds much better than Donatello or Dogen!" the boy named Mark exclaimed.

 _Dogen, you get back here! I'm not done with you, you disgrace!_

The young teacher's students noticed long pause in him.

"Donnie-sensei, are you okay?" a girl named Jane spoke up. Her head cocked to the side in curiosity.

Donnie snapped out of his stupor, removing his violet colored glasses in the process. There were small tremors that shook through his body, that were almost noticeable…almost.

He put on his best smile, teeth included.

"Yes class, I'm fine. I would just prefer you if wouldn't call me by that name."

But he wasn't fine. True, he was having a relatively good day until his true name was spoken. He doesn't associate with Dogen. His past was behind him now.

* * *

After school ended, he was sitting at his desk. The storm of emotions radiated from him and he couldn't focus on grading their assignments. He needed to get his mind off the terrible memories.

 _Father, no! Please stop!_

 _Shut up, Dogen! You've disgraced our family name! You deserve this! Since you want to behave like a bitch, I shall treat you like one!_

 _No, please! STOP!_

 _MOTHER, HELP ME!_

He slammed the desk, making his favorite mug fall to the floor and crack.

His students made him that mug. It actually had the name 'Donnie-sensei!' in purple embossed on it.

Great, now he felt sad. The mug his students had worked so hard on, was now being swept up and thrown into the trash.

Guess he had to make a new one.

After forcing himself to grade papers through his emotional turmoil, he decided it was time to pack up and leave.

As he left through the front entrance, he noticed a small form sitting on the stairs.

It was one of his students, Mark.

"Greetings, Mark. Are you waiting for someone?"

"I'm just waiting on my dad to come pick me up."

"Mark…school ended an hour ago. Shouldn't he be here by now?"

"He gets really drunk and forgets sometimes. It's okay, he'll be here eventually." The boy didn't seem so sure.

The young teacher didn't like that answer…he didn't like it at all.

Donnie had noticed Mark was wearing shorts. It was nothing to really lose his mind over…until he saw the deep seated bruises on his legs. They were akin to very rough Indian burns. They were fresh too.

"Mark, what happened to your legs? They look very damaged."

"I fell in the playground during recess." The boy's eyes weren't confident in the answer.

Donnie didn't believe him for second.

"The bruises look purple already, these were afflicted upon you much earlier than that. Mark, if there's anything wrong you know you can tell me."

"I can't! Dad will be mad at me!" Shouting, Mark's voice trembled slightly.

That's when the teacher froze.

 _Mother, you knew this whole time?! YOU LET FATHER DO THAT TO ME?!_

 _Dogen, I'm sorry! Please forgive me!_

 _I don't if I can._

"Your father did this to you?"

"No I fell, Donnie- sensei. It's okay." He could see the genuine fear in his eyes, and he didn't like it.

"This isn't ok, Mark."

A black truck pulled up, slow and almost ominous. A window rolled down to reveal a burly man.

"Mark, get the hell in the fuckin' truck!" It appeared to be his father, who was in a drunken stupor.

"Yes, Dad! Bye Donnie-sensei!"

"Sayonara, Mark." A placid expression etched its way onto his face.

Donnie locked eyes with the middle-aged man. His brown-red eyes held a different gaze than with most people. His face was still plastered with the same placid expression, yet his eyes were subtly changed.

The wine colored orbs were alight with flames of destruction. He was a very nice and generous man usually. But when it came to certain instances such as this one, it almost as if he had turned into a completely different person.

It was because he knew exactly what was going on, and he hated it.

The boy's father couldn't look at him anymore and drove away.

It was hard to tell what Donnie was feeling, because his base facial expression was translated as either bored or uninterested. All it took was for a slight eyebrow raise or a tiny smile or a narrowing of his eyes for his entire mindset to change.

But for his students, it was smiles all around. He would do anything for them.

Even if sometimes it meant turning into a person he didn't want anyone to see, let alone them.

Donnie got in his car and drove from the school.

* * *

On the drive home, he sat in mental silence, his mind completely blank.

 _Dogen, you did what?!_

 _How dare you drop out of college?!_

 _Father, I don't want to go to college! What about my wishes?!_

 _This isn't about your wishes, it's about our family's honor and reputation!_

He turned on the radio and blaring music boomed out. He shut it off quickly before it gave him a headache.

Donnie's house was a very minimalist yet very nice home. Especially in Chicago. It was a very odd looking home. It resembled a tall dark blue…box. You would think it was an unfinished building based on how plain it looked.

But it was his home nonetheless. As he walked through the door, He automatically went the fridge and took out some sushi he had made the night before. He was awfully hungry after his long day. He enjoyed his native dishes the most, but sushi was his favorite. It brought him happy memories back from Japan.

As he sat down in his desk in his spacious room, he picked up one of his favorite manga, Case Closed. He enjoyed the cases that the child prodigy had solved, it was a literary and visual tale of intrigue and wonder. Once he had finished his meal, he sat in silence for a bit.

He put the book down only to pick up another one. This book was very special to him in the sense that it held deep dark secrets that only he would know.

 _A rose by any other name:_

 _Mother oh mother_

 _How I loved you so_

 _It truly pained me to let you go_

 _The red of your eyes_

 _Filled me with love_

 _Which is why I sent your soul above_

As Donnie read the poem, he thought back to how much it hurt to see his mother die.

"How I loved you so, my dear mother." Donnie grabbed his notebook and shut it. He checked the time to see that it was probably time to hit the hay.

But he wasn't going to sleep, no, not after all the nightmares he had been trying to cope with. He looked to his beloved bo staff. He remembered winning many martial arts competitions and beat reckless muggers back in Japan with it.

The smooth black metal and white bandages made it a piece to behold. It's hidden gem of a feature was that it was retractable. Donnie stood from his chair and decided he was getting rusty.

He took his staff and gave an experimental swing or two. Then his swings became more complex as he flourished into a routine he had memorized from a couple years back. Happiness flooded through him from the good times he had shared with it.

The whistling and whipping of the air when the staff ran through it, bounced off the walls of his room.

It wasn't too long until the twenty-year-old teacher was drenched in sweat. He shucked off his clothes and took a long hot shower.

* * *

As he got out, he was reminded of something. He was going to do some _research_ on Mark's father, . He was concerned about the bruises that marred Mark's legs.

He was going to find out what was going on, one way or another.

He had a workshop, his home away from home. He had spent many a night here grading papers, discovering scientific equations, and simply getting away from the world. It was a block away from his home.

But this wasn't his regular workshop.

He also had one underneath his home. Almost like a bat-cave, if you will.

A dark area was flooded with light as a giant door was opened. It seemed to be a lab of some sort. It had a very cold air to it. It was nothing like the teacher his students knew.

He went in to go change into his other 'work' uniform.

That said uniform consisted of all black clothing with a dark purple leather tool apron. Thick onyx work gloves covered his hands. A mask that resembled a very minimalist version of a skull with tinted red lenses. They shined ominously against the flickering light of his warehouse.

His trusty tools consisted of a scalpel, a mallet, a small plastic jar, and his trusty staff

He was going to get some extracurricular activities done.

One of which consisted of that certain _research._


	11. Chapter 11

Four

Warm Heart, Cold Soul II

Donnie sat in his car across the street from the Gonzales residence. It was around one in the morning. He had done some research using the school's data to figure out their location. He took his binoculars and zoomed in through the window. Mr. Gonzales was passed out on the couch with a beer in his hand. Nothing seemed to be happening. He decided that he had done enough investigating.

That is until he heard a loud noise. Donnie snuck from his car when he saw the father go upstairs. There was a tree that led up to the upper window.

"I might as well get my climbing skills up." As the young teacher crawled up the tree, he settled himself on a branch.

The scene that played out was utterly horrifying. The father struck the son with all the power he could.

"You make me sick! She should've listened to me when I told her to abort you!"

Donnie could feel the blows go through his own body.

"Dad, I'm sorry! I never meant to make you angry!"

His skin was crawling with rage, the dark side of him wanted to leap through the window and beat the father within an inch of his life.

"You make me angry by simply existing!"

It made bile want to rise to his throat. But the burning and quaking of his body negated that function. So he decided that was going to do what any patient man would do: wait.

That's exactly what he did.

He quickly ran back to his car to observe from afar.

He waited…and waited…and waited some more.

He finally saw his chance when Mark's father, came rumbling out the door in a drunken stupor. He was yelling obscenities about his family and how much he hated being there. He slowly exited the car. He left his mask in the car because that would draw too much attention. He had some red food coloring he was previously going to use for a science project.

Donnie decided he was going to play a role in this situation.

He limped over from his car with a very convincing stagger in his movement.

"Oh god, someone please help me. I'm bleeding." He faked a pained voice. There was red all over his face and apron. He caught the attention of his target when the man reluctantly ran over to him.

"What happened to you?" He almost wanted to believe that Mr. Gonzales was actually concerned. He probably was, but Donnie didn't care.

"I got stabbed…on my way…ngh, home. I was mugged for my wallet."

It wasn't a very complex fib, but he bought it nonetheless. Mostly because the man was inebriated.

"Ok, sir. What do you *hic* need?" This man was utterly disgusting, it made his soul aflame with hatred.

"If you could open my passenger door, and get out my first aid kit, I'd really…appreciate it, gah."

"Sure thing."

As soon was the man opened the car door, he felt pressure on his neck. His body fell to the ground like a bag of rocks.

* * *

(STOP- I would appreciate it if you open a new tab and play this while reading this scene- /4Tr0otuiQuU)

The man slowly awoke to see that he wasn't in his neighborhood anymore. It was like some twisted lab of some sort. The dark and cold air rushed through his skin, setting him in to full alertness.

"I'm so glad you could join me, Victor." A digitally masked voice spoke to him. It sounded…Asian or something.

"Who the hell are you?! Where am I?!" Victor shook in his chair in a futile attempt to escape.

"All questions, comments, and concerns shall be answered after this brief presentation."

He turned his gaze upwards to see the very same man who he had tried to help, sitting in a chair right across from him. The figure dressed in black was reading a book, which was presumably Edgar Allan Poe.

"Greetings. You know, I've always been curious about the minds of other people. The thoughts that go through their mind as they commit a good deed, such as saving a life. But what about the dark and twisted little creatures, that scurry in the back of the proverbial file cabinet of their psyche? Such as murder or theft…or the abuse of a child. Even the one of your own son." Victor didn't even think it was possible for a person to both convey intrigue and disdain.

"What the fuck are you rantin' on about?! I didn't do any of that!"

"That's odd, you seem to say that but the bruises on your son's legs tell me otherwise."

"How do you know my son, asshole?!"

"That doesn't matter, Victor. Because people like you don't deserve empathy or confirmation. You belong in hell. If you're lucky, I'll make this quick and painless."

Victor spit in his captor's face.

Donnie began to chuckle while waving a finger.

"Your opportunity was just deemed null and void." He cracked his knuckles and neck in unison.

"I swear you're gonna regret this, sick fucker!"

The dim lights flickered on and off, giving the teacher a very demon-like appearance, as his tinted lenses burned a bright red against the empty white of his mask.

"Inform me of something, Victor. Do you know what the Chinese red headed centipede can do when it's inside someone's brain?" Donnie's digital voice took on a demonic tone as he in fact pulled out that very same centipede from the plastic jar.

"No, why?!" Victor shook in his chair like a man possessed, trying to escape. His captor approached closer and closer.

"It's funny…neither do I. I read it in a manga once." A cold hand wrapped a vice like grip around his hair, almost pulling a few hairs out.

"NO! S-STOP!" The father's eyes bulged out of his head as the centipede reached closer to his face.

"Ah ah ah, be a good man and hold still. We wouldn't want your internal checkup having any complications now, do we?"

"PLEASE STOP! AUGGGH!" The centipede was inserted into his ear as he thrashed around in his chains, wailing and screaming in agony. Eventually spittle began to fly from his mouth.

Each shake and rattle of the chains danced in rhythmic succession, almost like a song of torture.

"Scream all you like, Victor. These walls are soundproof."

The teacher raised his hands and copied the motions of an symphonic conductor.

"It's music to my ears, can't you hear it Victor?!"

Donnie removed the centipede from his ear, causing him to violently shiver and convulse.

"Ple-please. I'm sor-sorryy."

"Ahh, you can still speak. I really don't think you've learned your lesson yet." The chains were removed as the captive was moved to a table and strapped down. A burlap sack was tied over his head. The captor's bindings dug into his flesh as he thrashed and shook around. The biting, liquid cold enveloped him, running through his sinuses and drowning his miserable and trembling soul.

This was all done in intervals. The waiting for subzero water to burn down his throat was agonizing. When it did arrive, it was angry gnawing pain, like receiving a horrifying Indian burn.

Donnie untied the man and let him go.

"I think you've had enough, my friend. I'm in a good mood and this your first time offense. So I'm going to do you a favor and let you run free."

"Oh god, I swear I'll never do it again." Victor groveled at his legs, akin to a peasant begging to a king.

"For your sake, I hope you don't. I don't give out second chances, you don't want to end up back here. You tell anyone about what transpired here, you will regret it dearly." Donnie's tone was akin to a scalpel, sharp and precise.

"Oh thank-"

"But just in case you don't forget, I'll think I'll give you a reminder." A sharp kick to the jaw laid him out on his stomach.

The next thing Victor heard was something sizzling. Searing, flaming pain burst throughout his back. He was being branded with a large iron, his throat rough and torn from screaming so strongly.

The symbol on his back was a kanji, which read the term known as:onryo.

* * *

Donatello waited at his desk as his students came rolling in. He checked his watch swiftly.

"Good Morning, Donnie-sensei!" Mark greeted politely.

" _Ohayōgozaimasu_ , Mark. How are you doing, this morning?"

"I'm fine, but for some weird reason, my dad woke up on the lawn shaking."

"Oh that's odd, maybe he should seek some mental help."

"The class and I made you something, Donnie-sensei." Mark brightly grinned as he pulled out a mug which read: 'I teach kids, what's your superpower?' in bright purple.

"We noticed your old mug wasn't on your desk, so we just assumed you broke it."

Donnie's heart melted when a shy grin appeared on his face.

"Arigato, class. It brings me great joy to receive this from you." A small tear retreated from his eye.

"Donnie-sensei, when are you gonna use your mad ninja skills and start class?" The student known as Marissa spoke.

It brought a full-fledged laugh from the young teacher. He loved this kids, it was clear he loved them back.

He would do anything to protect them.


	12. Chapter 12

I have some news. I shall reworking this story and rewriting it. I feel as if the pacing was a bit too fast and rushed for my liking. Don't worry, Most of the story will be unchanged, i will just be taking my time with it and be going at slower pace. Thank you for the reviews. I plan to have to rewrite first chapter be up soon. It shall be under the same search criteria. It's new name shall be Brotherhood. See you guys later ;) 


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